


Tavern Tumble

by Soviet



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Groping, Playful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Roughhousing, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 09:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17764178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soviet/pseuds/Soviet
Summary: When you tease an already tipsy Trevor with sexual advances, what do you get? Fucked.





	Tavern Tumble

"You did that on purpose," Trevor hissed under his breath. His arm was still reaching across the table, thumb pressed forward in what had been a perfectly noble effort to catch a drop of ale that had escaped the corner of your mouth. You had repaid the gesture by quickly locking your lips around his thumb, giving an unnecessary suck to clean it off before leaning back into your chair. You gave him nothing in reply, shrugging and waiting for his next move. It took everything not to laugh as he very slowly retracted his arm, gripping his mug a little too tightly, and eyeing you over not unlike he did a new hunting target.

What happened next you could count on your own heart beats. One, his wrist snapped up and he downed the rest of his mug. Two, he'd reached across to pluck yours from your relenting hand and finished that as well. Five, there were coins being tossed onto the table, probably enough for your drinks and three more. By eight he'd adjusted his cloak back on his shoulders, hauled you up by your arm, and was dragging you towards the stairs leading to the rented rooms above the tavern. You grinned cheekily at the couple of patrons who stared as Trevor herded you by, even giving a wave to one who merely raised his glass in the universal "good luck kid" gesture.

Once you reached the stairs you slipped your arm out of his grasp, he hadn't been holding you very hard as you were more than willing to go where he lead. With a fit of giggles you bolted up the stairs two at a time, giving a small squeal of delight as you heard him growl playfully, fingers grasping for the hem of your shirt but letting it slip through. You were half way up before you risked a glance over your shoulder. He'd waited at the bottom, a hand on the banister, with a shit eating grin on his face. He hunched over a little, clearly hamming it up for your amusement, which only made you twitter into laughter again as you turned to face up the stairs again and gave him a nice view of you wagging your arse at him. When you heard the creak of the banister as he launched forward you bolted as best you could, heart thudding in your ears as you tried to reach the landing before he could grab you. You barely managed to keep upright the rest of the way, using your hand to catch yourself on the wall as you launched yourself off the last step. Your feet never quite hit the floor though as you felt muscular arms wrap around your waist and pull you back against Trevor's chest.

"Gotcha," he huffed in your ear, relentlessly kissing up your neck as you squawked, wiggling in his grasp and laughing hard enough for some tears to fall. He carried you like that the rest of the way to your room, your toes brushing the carpet as you tried to turn around to return his short pecks along your cheeks. He only let you down when you both reached the door to your room, to dig around in his pockets for the key. Once you had your footing you turned to face him, cupping his scruffy face between your palms to pepper his face with kisses, everywhere but his mouth which tried to chase yours between laughs.

When he finally managed to fish the key out of his pocket his left hand returned to your body, holding you by the waist while he reached behind you to open the door and none so gracefully shove you back into the room. You sauntered back, letting him by so he could remove his cloak and toss it on the floor near the unlit fireplace. You took the responsibility of going back to firmly shut the door and lock it. No sooner had the bolt turned when you felt him behind you again, his right arm braced on the door over your shoulder.

"Trying to keep somebody out?" he teased, pressing his forehead against the back of your head while his left hand gently slid over your waist, nudging you back until you were leaning against him. You sighed into the warmth, feeling his lightly panting breath rustle your hair and smelling the earthy scent that was distinctly Trevor. Like a wild thing, plucked out of the forest from his pine brush lair with just enough stale ale on his breath to keep him perfectly human. "You know that won't work on the noise..."

"True, but it will keep anybody from interrupting," you pointed out, pressing your hips back to feel his stiffening cock nestle right in the cleft of your ass. He groaned softly, the hand on your waist squeezing a bit before sliding over your stomach and up over your breastbone. The arm that had been on the door finally reached down to grip your hipbone, holding you steady as he ground up against you. He'd lowered his head to kiss your shoulder over your shirt, giving a soft growl in approval when you leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, going pliant in his hands to let him steer your body how he liked. Your own hands found their way to his head, fiddling with the mess of hickory colored hair while pressing your chest up into his hand. When he finally moved to grab handful of your left breast you moaned, feeling him punctuate the motion by stilling his hips and pulling yours forcibly against him. He could bruise you if he wanted to, probably break you, but he only held you still long enough for you to start panting, small breaths turning into whimpers when his right hand moved to press between your legs.

"I still have to pay you back for that trick downstairs," he muttered against your ear, left hand releasing your breast to reach up and run his thumb over your quivering lower lip. "Riling me up in a crowded room, surely you can't have thought that would go over very well."

Any retort you had forming about how this was exactly what "going over well" looked like in your mind was forgotten as he pulled you back from the door and positively tossed you onto the single bed. You landed on your stomach, huffing out a breath and shaking your head to toss your hair out of your face. You opened your mouth to complain only to immediately snap it shut in a barely contained moan when you felt a hearty slap across your right ass cheek. Whipping your head around to glare at him you felt the expression wipe from your face almost instantly. Your disaster of a man was giving you the largest lopsided grin, already trying to fumble out of his shirt before you could roll over.

"Take off yours," he ordered, his outfit was much more complicated to remove though lord knows he'd become a pro at it since meeting you. You made a show of flopping onto your back, dragging your hands over your chest to the hem of your shirt. He was already down to his trousers by the time you dragged the fabric over your head, shaking out your hair and collapsing among the covers. If Trevor was trying to look unimpressed he was doing a sorry job of it, finally breaking his "frustrated" expression into chuckles before he slowly reached for a dagger on his belt. "Well if you're going to be a pain about it..."

As much as the idea of him literally ripping the clothes from your body sent pleasant tremors over your skin you both knew you couldn't afford to replace everything come to morning. With a groan you struggled out of the rest of your clothes quickly, kicking them unceremoniously off your legs while scooting back up the bed to lie properly, giving him the needed to room to crawl over you once you were completely bare. You parted your legs so he could crawl between them, nuzzling his stubble covered chin over your stomach and up your chest as he went. By the time he made his way up to drunkenly claim your mouth you's wrapped your legs around him, fisted your hands in his hair, willing to have as much of your skin touch as possible.

For hours he shaped you as he liked. His hand between your legs could force you to bend your spine like a chapel archway. When he drove himself into you he knew for days later your legs would ache from how your knees had been forced to nearly meet your ears. He left with his own marks as well, kitten scratches down over his broad shoulders and bite marks around his neck and jaw. The convenience of your monster hunting profession the perfect excuse, most of the time, for the bruises you both would bare for the next week.

The last coherent thought you had before falling asleep, body still shuddering and aching from the crown of your head to your toes, was that you hoped the owner of the tavern didn't notice the new crack in the headboard come morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick drabble I wrote a while ago exploring a favorite kink of mine, hope you liked it.


End file.
